


Dick Grimes

by Tiofrean



Category: The Walking Dead RPF
Genre: A Nice Surprise, Actual Manchild, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dick Pics, Established Relationship, M/M, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polish Leedus Team, Post-Sex Smoking, Potted Plants Have a Hard Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-29 02:18:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14462862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiofrean/pseuds/Tiofrean
Summary: Andy's downtime gets interrupted by a text message from Norman.And then another.Before long, the whole evening gets turned upside-down.Thank god, it does!





	Dick Grimes

**Author's Note:**

> So like... A loooooooong time ago me and Sheenaz had that idea of Norman doing something ridiculous... I wrote a bit of this fic and it was put on the back-burner for a while. Then Norman went and posted [that ridiculous dick-pick of cartoon cocks dressed as TWD characters](https://www.instagram.com/p/BV7dhYGgHwW/), and I thought that I should finish this piece finally. And then I watched a few panels with Leedus material in them and... yeah. Enjoy! :3

Andy was relaxing alone in his freshly bought house in Atlanta. Buying the house was something he had to do, to accommodate the filming schedule and his family time. His phone dinged and Andy groaned. He reached for it, eyes still trying to follow the plot of a movie he had been watching. Andy managed to grab it blindly, taking his eyes off the screen of his TV only when he had brought the phone right in front of his face. Typing in the password, he cursed internally at just how fucking small the keys were on the screen of his smartphone. _Why did he let Norman talk him into buying one? His old piece of shit was working just fine, thank you very much_. He saw an icon indicating a new message. Curious as to who would text him so late in the evening, he opened the app, smiling when he saw it was Norman.

Andy’s smile vanished as quickly as he opened the message, though. It was a simple _‘Wanna bite?’_ text with a picture attached. Andy squinted at the miniature for a moment, trying to make out what the hell it was, before he clicked to enlarge it. His eyes widened.

Rolls… no, _donuts_. Donuts placed one on top of another, three of them, colorful glaze and sprinkles all over them. Andy was about to reply that _yeah, sure_ , and see where this conversation would lead to, but just as he was about to zoom out of the picture, something caught his attention. He squinted again, bringing the phone closer to his face. _It couldn’t be…_

But it _was_. Right over the top donut, a shiny, _sticky_ , very pink head of a cock was peeking out, glaze smeared all over it, some sprinkles attached. Andy blinked down at the picture, then blinked again. He didn’t know whether he should be getting aroused, because Norman had just sent him a picture of his dick, or amused, because the whole thing was so _ridiculous_ … After a few more blinks, the ridiculousness won and Andy bowed over the phone as a mad giggle escaped him. He couldn’t believe that Norman had put donuts on his cock and _had sent him a picture of it_. But then again, Andy knew his lover was pretty crazy sometimes.

Once he settled enough to be able to text back, he typed in a quick message.

_\- What possessed you?_

The reply was fast and short.

 _\- Flanery_.

Andy snorted and rolled his eyes. Of course, who else? He had heard about the prank but he had never thought he would be a part of something so utterly stupid. But it was also funny, Andy had to admit, so he ignored the pang of jealousy that vibrated through him. Now Norm was his and only his, no matter the stupid shit he got up to. Before Andy had the time to text Norman another message, his phone dinged again. He unlocked it and groaned, when another picture followed the first.

_\- Superdick!_

The photo had Norman’s very hard, very straining cock with a tiny Superman sign attached in the middle of the shaft. Andy guessed it must have been a sticker or something, small white ridge around it telling him all he needed to know. But it wasn’t what made him double over in laughter again, no. Just under the head, pink and moist and making Andy’s mouth water at the sight, Daryl Dixon’s trademark red rag was tied tightly. It flowed behind the shaft like a tiny little cape, folding behind it nicely. The sight was as funny as it was arousing, the thick shaft full and undoubtedly pulsing, sensitive to the touch. Andy’s eyes flicked back to where the tiny cape was tied off, the knot fitted snugly under the rim of the head. He wanted to send Norman another message, telling him just what he thought about doing to this particular cock, when another picture followed.

_\- Batdick!_

Andy snorted, waiting for the photo to load. And then he started laughing out loud, the sounds escaping him out of his control as he looked at the picture. It was, undoubtedly, Norman’s cock once again, this time dressed up in one of his old socks with a Batman print all over it. Andy knew those socks, he had taken them off of Norman’s feet on many occasions. Right now, though, there were tiny holes cut out for eyes, two corners were tied off with rubber bands, forming tiny little ears, and Andy was _wheezing_ by the time he took all of it in. It was idiotic, so stupid he could barely believe it. And it made him laugh like a maniac, so he figured it was okay. It also made him horny, and sitting in his empty apartment was not helping matters. Another _ding_ followed at the exact same moment Andy brought his hand to his own crotch, rubbing it distractedly through his jeans. He opened the message.

There was Norman’s dick again, decidedly hard, standing in all its glory, with a tiny plastic sheriff’s hat on the head and a badly drawn beard just under. Andy gulped, trying not to choke on his spit. The caption said _‘Dick Grimes!’_ and Andy couldn’t really comprehend what he was seeing. The hat he had seen before - it was a part of one of the figures of Rick Grimes that Norman had received as a gift from his fans. That bloody thing was usually sitting atop his dresser. Now, though, the hat was placed precariously on top of Norman’s cock, and the beard was drawn in… Sharpie? _Jesus Christ_ , was Norman _mad?_ Trying to swallow the excess of spit as his mouth watered at the sight of all the flesh, Andy dialed Norman’s number and waited impatiently for the man to pick up.

“Hello, lover!” Norman’s voice greeted him. It sounded a bit strained through the receiver, but Andy ignored it.  
“Did you draw a _beard?_ On your _dick?_ With a _sharpie?_ ” He asked instead, not really sure what answer he would get. There was a chuckle on the other end and Norman’s voice sounded oddly amused.  
“Nah, just my eyeliner,” he stated, as if that simple phrase didn’t do weird things to Andy’s brain.  
“ _Your_ eyeliner?”  
“Andy… I didn’t start playing dress-up _today_ , you know?” by the tone of his voice, Andy could tell already that Norman was grinning from ear to ear. He groaned, images of his lover dressed up and in make-up flashing through his mind. He wanted to open his mouth and ask him just how the hell was he supposed to know that, but Norman beat him to it.

“Remember that photo shoot with that dress? The ballerina-style one?” Norman asked, and Andy squeezed his eyes shut, breathing heavily. Oh fuck… _Yeah, he did_. He especially liked just how unapologetic Norman had looked in it, sitting in the bathtub without a care in the world. Looking back at it, that session had been one of the first ones that he had seen after meeting Norman on the set all those years ago. Someone... _Steven_ , had showed it to him, laughing good-naturedly about something concerning Daryl and skirts. Andy couldn’t be sure - he had been too transfixed looking at Norman in that blasted bathtub. It was almost surprising how he managed to forget about it over time, especially once he had gotten the opportunity to lay his hands on Norman, and looking at photo shoots was no longer required to get off.

That train of thoughts brought forth a small moan from him, the feelings he had experienced then flooding him anew, and he just couldn’t help but palm himself through the worn-out fabric of his trousers. Norman must have caught up with it, because the next time he opened his mouth, his voice was positively dripping with sex.  
“Oh, so you _do_ remember that session!” he added a low groan for good measure, and Andy nodded stupidly, before he remembered that Norman couldn’t see him.  
“Yeah… _yeah._ ” he cleared his throat distractedly. “Normsky… could you maybe… come over? Got a bit of a _situation_ here,” Andy husked out, looking pointedly at his crotch. There was a huff of laughter at the other end of the line.  
“Why babe? You hard?” Andy could tell the man was definitely, without a doubt, enjoying the call and the effect he had on Andy.

The fact that Andy had a soft spot for Norman talking dirty didn’t really help. The man was shy as fuck, but once he got into a mood, he could definitely make a whore blush. And now, just hearing the word ‘hard’, grunted out in _that_ voice, smoky with arousal, was enough to make Andy paw at his zipper.  
“Nahman…” Andy almost whined into the receiver, taking himself out and wrapping his hand around his length. “ _Come over!”_ he panted, squeezing his fist slightly. There was a decided groan coming from the other end.  
“I can’t. I’m not even home right now. But I can get you off like that,” Norman proposed, voice sweet as honey and Andy squeezed his eyes shut.

“Phone sex? Aren’t we too old for that?” Andy asked with a barked out laugh, but it turned strained, the implications of what they were doing settling on his brain like a thick fog of lust. It was juvenile and ridiculous. And so fucking perfect in its own way.  
“Shush. Close your eyes,” Norman whispered.  
“Already done.”  
“Good. How hard are you?”  
“Norman.” Andy swallowed heavily.  
“How hard, baby?” his voice was raspy and it sent a jolt of arousal crawling up Andy’s spine. His hand squeezed reflexively around his cock, the precome starting to slowly slip out of the tip.

“ _Very._ ” He husked, wriggling in place a bit.  
“Where are you? I take it Gael isn’t home?” Norman asked, and there was that smirk in his voice again.  
“My couch. In that big ass house I bought in Atlanta. And Gael’s out with her cousin and the kids... _Norm…_ ” the name came out as an urgent moan, as Andy stroked himself slowly. Norman hummed thoughtfully.  
“Mhm… You touching yourself?” Andy just groaned in reply. “Stop it.”

The sharp command made him blink his eyes open again.  
“Wha…”  
“Stop. It. Put your hands on your thighs.”  
“ _Norman!_ ” the command was wicked, but Andy obeyed, laying his palm flat on the tops of his jean-clad thighs, the other still holding the phone to his ear. He was fully erect right now, rock-hard and straining, out in the open space of his living room.  
“Shh… no touching until I say so. Now wiggle out of those pants a bit.” Andy frowned.  
“How did you…”  
“I _know_ you, Andy. Now, lower your pants.”

When Andy did as he was told, hissing when cool air wafted over his exposed flesh, the reality of what he was actually doing struck him hard. And, in turn, it made _him_ even _harder_. It wasn’t just a quick handjob, he knew Norman enough to not expect that. Norman liked to _play_ , and Andy liked to dive head-first into whatever game his lover invented at a given moment.  
“How much time do we have?” Norman asked and Andy frowned. His gaze flicked to the clock on the wall, brain scrambling when he tried to do maths.  
“Two hours?” He said it like it was a question, praying Norman wouldn’t make him wait that long.  
“Will do. Lie down on the couch, babe.”

Andy did as he was told, cringing when the leather squeaked with his movements, hissing when it rubbed at his ass. He pushed his pants lower, letting them settle around his knees. God, he’d do a lot right now to have Norman with him. They hadn’t seen each other in _months._ He was getting pretty desperate.

“What now?” Andy breathed out with a sigh. Norman chuckled, as if he could tell how impatient Andy was slowly becoming.  
“Now... I want you to think about all that stuff I’m gonna do to you,” Norman said, voice getting deep. “We start filming in a week. How long do you think it’s gonna take me to have you on your knees?” Norman asked and Andy moaned. His hands twitched and he almost dropped the phone. He fisted his free hand at his side - Norman _had_ told him not to touch himself. _Damn, but was it hard._

“I don’t know,” Andy mumbled, “you planning on fucking me, Norm?” _Two could play this game._ Andy knew it was Norman’s show right now, but he couldn’t help himself. If he couldn’t touch, he would at least make Norman all hot and bothered, too.  
“You _know_ I do, loverboy,” Norman huffed into the receiver and Andy groaned. _That fucking nickname._ Norman just went on, voice scratchy. “I’m gonna have you on all fours the moment we get inside your trailer. Gonna open you up… What do you think? Two fingers? _Three?”_

The mental image of that went right to Andy’s dick. It twitched, abandoned on his stomach. He moaned. _Fuck, yeah, three fingers sounded about right._

_Or maybe…_

Andy muttered his response so quietly, Norman had to ask him to repeat it.  
“What was that?” The raspy voice at the other end demanded, and Andy could feel his cheeks reddening.  
“Your tongue.” He closed his eyes and bit his lips. There was a beat of silence at the other end and he started to reconsider his bluntness, before a rather loud groan filtered through.  
“You want my tongue?” Norman gruffed out. “You want me to _lick_ you open, babe? Or maybe _fuck you open?”_

Good lord.

Andy’s hips arched off the couch and he whimpered.  
“Norman! Come _on!”_ He urged, fingers clawing at the couch. He was sure Gael would have a fit if he left any marks on their new furniture.  
“Sorry, darling. Can’t eat you out now. But you can use your own fingers,” Norman said. “Suck on them. Make them wet,” he prompted. Andy had them in his mouth before he had even finished the sentence.

“Done,” he announced after a moment, sounding just _a bit too eager_. Norman chuckled.  
“Get one in. Slowly,” he instructed and Andy groaned.  
_“Fuck slow!_ I’m kinda _desperate_ here!” He slid his index finger all the way in, as far as it would go. “Jesus…” Andy breathed out, eyes closing on their own accord. He imagined Norman’s finger slipping inside, opening him up. He moved it to the side, stretching himself a bit, before he added another one. It tore a loud moan out of him and Norman tsked at the other end of the line.

“I said _one._ ” Norman scolded, but there wasn’t really any heat in his voice. Andy scoffed.  
“Come and stop me, then,” he answered. He twisted his hand around, arched his back, and slid the fingers just that bit further in.

_It wasn’t enough._

“Maybe I will,” said a voice somewhere in the room, and…

Oh.

_Oh._

_Oh fuck!_

Andy whipped his head around so fast, he made himself dizzy.

Norman was standing in his living room, the phone still pressed to his ear, smiling like a madman.

“Norman!” Andy practically shouted. He froze where he was - cock out and fingers still deep in his ass. He blinked at Norman stupidly, not really comprehending what he was seeing.

Norman walked to him and got on the couch. He crawled over Andy until they were face to face, one of Norman’s knees slipping between Andy’s ankles. He was stretched awkwardly over Andy’s pants-bound knees and his weight pressed Andy down into the couch, which made Andy take his fingers out finally.

Norman leaned down, bringing their faces close.  
“Hello, darling,” he whispered and placed a small kiss on Andy’s lips. Andy growled and let go of the phone. It landed on the floor with a loud clatter, which was ignored, because Andy fisted his hands in Norman’s t-shirt and attacked him with a hungry kiss.  
“You… lazy… asshole!” He panted, laying little bites to Norman’s lips. Norman laughed breathily.  
_“Lazy?”_ He groaned, feeling Andy tugging at the pants around his own knees jerkily. “I’m hurt… I came… all the way here… and you call me… _lazy?”_ He asked, the question interrupted by Andy’s insistent tongue. Norm settled between Andy’s legs and opened his own trousers.

“Fuckin’ lazy!” Andy gruffed out, tugging at Norman’s shirt, prompting him to take it off. He had zero patience for clothes right now. Well, clothes on _Norman,_ in any case - his still had his own t-shirt on. “You got me to open myself up just so you didn’t have to do it!” Andy accused playfully.

Norman fixed him with a fiery stare.  
“But _babe_... I _love_ this,” he stated and, without much ado, pushed two fingers inside Andy’s ass. Andy was sure his whine could be heard five streets down.  
“Fuck!”  
“In a sec,” Norman replied, taking his hand away and reaching behind himself. Andy watched in disbelief, as he produced a bottle of lube from his pocket and squirted some on his fingers.  
“You fucking devil…” Andy groaned, his back arching when Norman’s _very slippery fingers_ returned.

“You love me, though.” Norman chuckled and slid his fingers all the way in, tearing a broken moan out of Andy. He started to move his hand, slow at first, then with increasing urgency, until Andy was writhing on his pristine, new couch.

“Enough!” The Brit growled finally, batting Norman’s hands away. He reached between them and drew Norman’s cock out. He gave it a few solid squeezes, just to hear Norman make that throaty sound that trickled down his own spine like molten lava. And then, he lined Norman’s dick up, tilted his ass, and tugged Norman forward with a hand gripping his hair tightly.

“Fucking hell, _Andy…”_ Norman’s voice cracked at his name and Andy shivered, wrapping his legs securely around Norm’s waist. He tightened them and pulled Norman forward, hissing when the thick length slipped inside.

Hot and hard. _Unyielding_.

The sensation bowed Andy’s spine and closed his throat, making his mouth fall open silently. Finally, after all those months apart, he had Norman with him… _inside him…_ Andy looked ahead, only to be met with Norman’s blissed-out expression. He was still, hovering over Andy, his eyes scrunched shut and his bottom lip caught between teeth.

Andy moved his hands then, and brought them up to Norman’s waist. He raked his nails up Norman’s sides, which finally kick-started Norman’s brain - his eyes opened and focused on Andy, and _that was it._

Suddenly, they were moving, a few months worth of longing pouring out of them through desperate hands and gasping mouths. Andy let his arms travel around Norman’s back, holding him close, _holding on for the ride, really,_ as Norman set up an even rhythm. It was slow at first, lazy enough to make Andy curl his toes into Norman’s ass - the unhurried drag of the hot length burning him inside-out. He closed his eyes and leaned up, mouthing blindly at Norman’s neck, drawing a long moan out of him.  
“Missed you,” Andy muttered into the sensitive skin, delighting in the shiver that rocked Norman’s whole body. He let his hands slide down that muscular back, fingers groping whenever they could.

“Fuck… too damn long,” Norman grated near his ear, pressing closer. It caused Andy’s body to curl up more, almost bending him in half, and his hands slipped lower. He planted them on Norman’s ass, squeezing the cheeks and pulling them apart until Norman cursed above him.

“Knock it off,” Norman huffed out, but his hips jumped wildly every time Andy’s hands tightened. Andy grinned into his neck and squeezed again. Norman broke the rhythm, hips stuttering to a halt, and pulled back. He levelled Andy with a glare, but there was a playful smirk which curled the corners of his lips up.

The next thing Andy knew, Norman was reaching back and grabbing Andy’s hands. He brought them over their heads and pressed them into the armrest of the couch.  
“Told you to knock it off,” he rasped out and tightened his hold on Andy’s wrists.  
_“Shit,”_ Andy gasped when he started to move again. The pace Norman set this time was quicker, his heavy cock spearing him again and again, sending sparks down his spine. The sensation was enough to tighten Andy’s stomach - the heat pooling deep in his gut overflowing, spreading through him like liquid fire. His knees slipped on Norman’s sides when he tried to hike them up - to tilt his hips, to find leverage, _something_ to get more of that blissful feeling.

Norman must have noticed. He was still staring at Andy’s face, eyes dark and hungry, the heat in them enough to melt Andy’s brain.  
“Christ… _Andy,”_ he breathed out, ending the sentence with a low growl. Andy tried to shift again, but Norman’s hold on his hands stopped him. He wriggled in place and moaned, arching his back to rub his cock against Norman’s stomach.  
“Come on, Norm,” Andy almost whined, tugging with his arms, but Norman was relentless. He shifted his hold, grabbing both of Andy’s wrists into one hand. His free hand slid down Andy’s side, tickling his ribs through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. When it got to the hem, it slipped underneath, and Norman ran his hot palm all the way up Andy’s bare back, only to drag it back down.

Short nails scratched at his skin, and Andy couldn’t really help the strangled noise he made. He threw his head back, his thighs spasming around Norman’s waist. He had a feeling he would go mad if he didn’t come soon. Norman’s length entered him over and over again, almost brushing against his sweet spot, but it wasn’t _enough._  
“Please,” he whimpered on a particularly sharp thrust, biting his lip to hold in the sound bubbling in his throat.  
“Shhh…” Norman shushed him gently, diving down and brushing his lips over Andy’s ear. He placed his free hand on the small of Andy’s back and tilted his hips higher and -

_Oh._

_Yes._

The angle was perfect like this - the head of Norman’s cock hit Andy’s prostate on every thrust. It made his own dick throb and leak obscenely onto his stomach, quickly forming a wet spot on his t-shirt.  
“Norman… _ah! Fuck…_ ” Andy rasped out, throat suddenly dry. Pleasure spreading through him switched his brain off, and he let himself be carried away with the sensations. He stopped his attempts at freeing his hands and focused on the way Norman moved above him instead. He could feel his orgasm building, the fire pooling in his guts getting hotter, until it finally exploded.

Andy came with a silent scream - mouth hanging open and throat refusing to produce any sound. All of his muscles pulled tight, head snapping back and spine arching violently. Little, white spots danced in his vision, and he tried to blink them away. He succeeded just in time to see Norman’s eyes falling shut. His body went rigid on top of Andy, hips pressing as close as they could, as Norman fucked into him one more time and froze, a guttural moan escaping him.

Catching their breath took them an embarrassingly long time, but neither of them minded - it was filled with quiet hums and wandering hands.

Norman’s softening length was still buried inside him, when Andy started to giggle. Norman pulled away and out, squinting at him. The expression reminded Andy about Daryl - their roles almost a second skin to them now.  
“What’s so funny?” Norman asked with a frown and Andy shook his head, grinning at him.  
“Man, am I glad I bought this house…” Andy explained, chuckling, and Norman rolled his eyes.  
“I told you to buy a house here only a thousand times,” he muttered, sitting up and tucking himself away. Andy sat up, too, and grabbed his discarded pants. He pulled them on and looked around for Norman’s t-shirt. He spotted it next to the couch and leaned over to pick it up.

Norman shifted next to him, rooting through his pockets, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He took two out, put them both into his mouth and lit them. After a small inhale, he offered one to Andy, who took it, and threw Norman’s t-shirt into his lap.  
“Put it on, my kids don’t need a show,” Andy mumbled around the cigarette and Norman shrugged, looking at his watch. They were going to be back in an hour or so… He looked at Andy.

“How did you get here, anyway?” Andy asked him after a moment.  
“Gael mailed me the key right after you moved in. You know, just in case,” Norman explained and Andy rolled his eyes. _Right. Just in case._

“She gonna be mad?” Norman asked, and it was Andy’s time to shrug.  
“Probably,” he flicked the cigarette into the flower pot standing on the table, and Norman smirked, seeing this. “You know she hates it when we smoke inside,” Andy went on, and Norman hummed.  
“Gonna buy her flowers or something,” he mused and Andy snorted.  
“Or _something…”_ He snickered and Norman raised an eyebrow at him, prompting him to go on.

“We talked once… She said she’d like to watch,” Andy clarified with a meaningful look.  
“You alright with that?” Norman asked.  
Andy took a long drag of his cigarette. “Yeah.” He flicked the ash into the pot again. “What about you?”  
“I’m game if you are.” Norman nodded, finishing his smoke.

As soon as his hand was done stubbing it out in the pot, it traveled to Andy’s thigh. A moment later, Norman’s lips pressed into his neck, and Andy groaned, pulling away.  
_“Kids.”_ He growled.  
“Oh for _fuck’s sake!”_ Norman huffed in exasperation and stood up. He grabbed Andy’s hands and tugged him to the bedroom. Once inside, Andy paused, his brain catching up finally.  
“How do you even know where my bedroom is?” He asked, and Norman barked out a laugh.  
“Dude, you moved in a month ago. I got the keys _three months ago._ Who do you think was watering that poor plant for the first two?” He pointed in the general direction of the living room.

Andy just groaned and flopped down on the bed.


End file.
